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[goodtobebad]

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[goodoldfashioned]

So long as you're coming with me, I'm very sure of that. The liking, I mean.

[Speaking of things he likes? This wine. Also, Crowley, who he will probably try to kiss a bit now.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Hmm. Wine, or kissing the angel? Ah, who is he kidding, it's always the angel. He's snapping his fingers to send their glasses across the room, freeing up his hands to slide around Aziraphale's waist. ]

You're ridiculous.

[goodoldfashioned]

[See, this exactly proves his point. Can't be kissing your Crowleys if they aren't there, after all. He winds his hands around his shoulders, better to raise himself up onto his toes and plant a kiss on him.]

Glass houses, my dear.

[goodtobebad]

How am I ridiculous?

[ Pout! ]

You’re the one who fusses over your 200-year-old waistcoats....

[goodoldfashioned]

I could've sworn you tried to sink one of the ducks again the other day....

[So there!]

[goodtobebad]

It’s funny! They eat too much bread, anyway...

[ He’s tugging Aziraphale onto the sofa with him, for more kisses. ]

What else?

[goodoldfashioned]

The poor things.

[He hops down onto the sofa, humming kisses while he thinks it over.]

There's all those spare spectacles you keep in your car, I've seen those. Really, do you need so many?

[goodtobebad]

Yes, I do.

[ Crowley hums, tracing a line down Aziraphale’s neck. ]

Have you seen how humans react when they see my eyes?

[goodoldfashioned]

[He huffs, peeved on Crowley's behalf.] They shouldn't be such blighters about them. They're so lovely.

[goodtobebad]

They are not! They’re demonic. Infernal. Bestial.

[ Crowley laughs. Silly angel. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

[Aziraphale pouts. Silly demon.]

Hardly! They're clever. Bright. A really splendid golden color.

[goodtobebad]

You’re biased, angel.

[ He’s going to nibble at those pouting lips. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

Completely impartial.

[He does so like the things Crowley can do with his tongue. Teeth, too.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Crowley snorts rather unbecomingly. ]

Don't even try to play at being the innocent. ...What are we arguing about again?

[ In the five or so seconds that he's distracted himself with the angel's lips, he's forgotten the entire point of this conversation. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

[He peers around the room, before shrugging his shoulders into the couch.]

I haven't the faintest idea. Paris, I think?

[Maybe. He went a little hazy for a few minutes (???) there.]

[goodtobebad]

Oooh, Paris, that's right.

[ Crowley grins and kisses him again. ]

We can make love in the City of Love. Eh?

[goodoldfashioned]

[He laughs, slightly smothered by the kissing in progress.]

I somehow doubt we'd be the first.

[goodtobebad]

Probably the first angel and demon to do it, though!

[ It’s not a competition, but they’ve won that one. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

Perhaps there's some sort of prize for that, do you think?

[He can think of a pretty good one from where he's sitting.]

[goodtobebad]

Not sure I can think of anything better than, well... you.

[ He's an honest demon, at least. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

[Hearteyes emoji, they go here.]

Then I'm afraid you'll always have me, Crowley. Even in Paris.

[goodtobebad]

Well... good. In case you haven't noticed, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

[ The drunker he gets, the more honest. Woops. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

I believe I can safely say the same, dearest.

[You know he's serious and/or tipsy because the petnames are coming out.]

[goodtobebad]

[ And Crowley's so far gone he's not even pretending to mind it. Just nuzzling at the angel's neck. ]

What, better than... than... Mozart's arias?

[goodoldfashioned]

Much better. Mozart's arias don't share my wine with me.

[He's started playing with Crowley's hair, idle and soft.]